


My Greatest Creation

by RenaRoo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[What If AU] Carolina is more than just a daughter. And in that way, she learns she is even less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Greatest Creation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeraltea (temporarily_obsessed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_obsessed/gifts).



> Prompt: ( ephemeraltea ) i just had a thought, too. an AU thought: what if Carolina is an AI, too? the young daughter that he lost when she was a child, around the same time he lost Allison - and that fragmented of of Alpha in a very similar way to Beta, but instead, she came as the woman he dreamed she could have become, if she had lived. and then York falls in love with the Carolina-AI. who, of course, has no idea she’s a computer.
> 
> A/N: HOW DID THIS HAPPEN TO MEEEEEEEE. I MADE MY MISTAKESSSSSSS. Seriously, though, DARN YOU because this idea was SUCH the inspiration fuel omg.

"I just don’t know about this, Leonard.”

“There’s nothing to be concerned about. This... it’s my life’s work.”

There is a pause. She is still not online. She is still not able to see. But she can hear. And they don’t know. 

The woman isn’t happy. The man is. 

“It’s never going to be her, Leonard.”

She opens her eyes, looks at them. The woman stands back, arms crossed, frown set on her face as she looks down. The man is in her face, smirking confidently beneath his glasses, hands still adjusting something just out of her view. He steps back. 

“Hello, Carolina,” he says. 

She looks back to the woman, watches the way something grows watery in the woman’s eyes, makes her look down and shake her head. It breaks Carolina’s heart a little.

“Do you know who we are?” he asks again, drawing Carolina’s attention to him. 

She blinks back, a little confused and more than a little scared. 

Her palms ring together, a strange, wiry noise coming from the movement. “No,” she answers softly. 

“That’s alright,” he says, cupping hands on her shoulders. “That’s more than alright. I will teach you. We both will. Isn’t that right, Allison?” 

He looks back as Allison is leaving. 

Carolina feels cold and alone as Leonard gets up and follows her out of the room. 

* * *

Allison takes more than a month before she is alone in the same room as Carolina. She watches the girl with both interest and distance. 

Several times, Carolina will catch Allison biting on her knuckles, holding back something she has to say. 

It isn’t until one night, after a bath, when Carolina is combing out her hair that Allison calls her over. 

Carolina shuffles over, reluctant and quiet. 

She loves Allison with everything in her, but she worries that Allison will never feel the same. 

“If you want,” Allison says slowly, sitting cross legged on the carpet, “I can comb out your hair for you.”

It is the nicest thing Carolina has ever heard and she quickly crawls into Allison’s lap as a result. Allison immediately takes to brushing out Carolina’s red locks with practiced ease. 

“I’m sorry that things are so confusing right now,” Allison says quietly, though she doesn’t tell Carolina what she should be finding confusing. “You’re a very sweet little girl. I’ve really enjoyed watching you, and I hope we’ll enjoy taking care of each other.” She pauses, head lowering. “Leonard...”

Carolina looks carefully over Allison, eyes shimmering. “Father?”

“Your father,” Allison repeats softly. “I’m worried he treats you... or at least _wants_ to treat you like you’re someone else. Someone he’s lost,” she explains. Her blue eyes meet Carolina’s -- they’re red rimmed and watery.”And that’s not fair.”

Carolina feels her heart breaking as she looks at Allison, as she reaches up to wipe away at her mother’s tears. 

Allison gently wraps her hands over Carolina’s, holds Carolina’s hand to her cheek. 

“He wants to treat you and expect from you what he would from someone else, Carolina,” Allison explains in a hushed tone. “He wants to... he wants to pretend that you and someone else are the same person. I don’t think that’s right. I don’t think that’s fair. Especially not to you, Carolina. So I want you to promise me, no matter what, that you will try to be _you_ and not what he wants you to be?”

Turning her head, Carolina couldn’t help but frown. “Is _me_ who you want me to be?”

“Yes, yes it is,” Allison says gently.

“Okay then,” Carolina nods. “For you.”

Of course, Carolina can only do things for Allison so long as Allison stays around. And even while Allison smiles and thanks her, Carolina knows that Allison is still a soldier.

Sometimes soldiers don’t come home. 

* * *

Allison doesn’t come home and as far as Carolina could tell, that’s the end.

Whatever front they have been putting forward is done, and Carolina is only a leftover. 

She watches him, with pity and anguish, as he stares at old movies, as he stands around and stares in rooms with pictures, as he forgets to eat or bathe.

Carolina watches and she does small things, because she loves him, because she’s hurting too.

She pulls on his arm, walks him to the kitchen. She cooks, she cleans. She eventually gets him back to his work and his coworkers who, she hopes, are helping him work again. To function like he didn’t die the day the soldiers came to their door, too.

When push comes to shove, Carolina realizes she has to run her own maintenance -- that it’s not fun for Leonard anymore, that he’s done playing pretend.

And even though Allison had been so sincere and Carolina had wanted _so much_ for playing pretend to be over, for Carolina to be seen for what she truly is, when it happens it just feels cruel.

Carolina would give anything to be what Leonard expected her to be now. But she can’t. 

She can’t, but she convinces herself to try harder, to be more real, to be more exceptional, to be everything Leonard wants from her and more.

“Father?”

He’s staring at the video of Allison’s last salutations again, face drawn long and quiet. At first it seems like he’s going to ignore her again, but slowly he comes to look at Carolina directly. 

Leonard’s scowling.

“What did you call me?” he asks.

“I... your dinner’s ready,” she says, looking to her feet. “Sorry, Sir. I won’t disturb you.”

She’s blinking back tears, listening as his walks toward the door, toward her. When he stops, she doesn’t know what she’s expecting, but the brush of his hand through her hair isn’t it. 

Carolina feels like she can almost breathe when he walks past her and heads to the kitchen. She closes her eyes and smiles. 

Sir it is, then. 

* * *

Her will is tested really for the first time after her third update. 

She notices in the second update that there’s an uncertain twist to her father’s brow when she opens her new eyes. He’s so rarely happy that, at first, she doesn’t completely register it as anything being wrong. 

No more wrong than usual.

But as she stands with new limbs, eyes level with his chest, she waits anxiously for him to pet her head as he so often does. 

Instead, she gets a hand on her shoulder, then he moves on toward his other projects. 

It stings. But it doesn’t feel like an open wound until the third update.

Her eyes are level with his chin, and the adjustment is difficult and improper, it feels like. Too much too soon, and when she looks at Leonard Church’s face she sees that almost exact sentiment in his green eyes as well.

For the first time he _truly_ doesn’t know what to expect out of her, and he turns away, hand on his chin as he considers this. 

Carolina looks to her hands, watches the unblemished, synthetic flesh curl around her metal frame, then watches as the fingers squeeze together to form fists. 

When she looks back up, he’s still not looking at her, hand scratching at the back of his head as he looks at a wall of screens, glowing with various projects and newsletters and results.

She grits her teeth and hears the breaking of glass before she feels her fist go through it. 

Leonard spins around on his heels, eyebrows racing for his hairline, but otherwise he’s not overly expressive. 

Even as his eyes move from Carolina’s face to the face of her former body that her fist is now completely through, he doesn’t seem reactive. Not reactive _enough.  
_

“Am I only a machine?” she asks him, feeling her body quiver. “And if I am, why did you ever call me daughter? Please. Please _tell me,_ Sir.”

He looks at her, eyebrows slowly dropping back to just resting on his face. He shakes his head, and Carolina realizes she’s never noticed how tired and old he has gotten in just a few years. 

“I don’t know,” he responds. 

And Carolina feels as though there’s not a worse answer he could have given. 

* * *

"I miss you,” she says in the video. 

She rewinds it, watches it again. 

It is a poignant, well crafted, understanding message. It states clearly why she is leaving, explains what it is she hopes to accomplish by doing so, and even more than that begs him to ask the question of how he could have made her stay.

He couldn’t make Allison stay. Now, Carolina’s message tells him, he couldn’t make her stay either.

Different reasons. All the same man.

She wonders if he even cries when he watches it.

The enlistment is simpler for cyborgs. Simpler for those deemed the most expendable to the army’s needs. And training, rising to and above the expectations of a superior she can never fully meet eye to eye... 

Well, it’s as if Carolina has been training all her life to be one of the UNSC’s soldiers.

She is the best at everything she does. Everyone knows to watch out for her. And the enemies won’t even know what hits them when she’s set loose on them. 

All this, and every night her inbox is empty. She doesn’t know if he’s even seen her message.

She might never know. 

For the first time, she really considers Allison’s words. 

For the first time, as she puts on her best dress, as she leaves head turned on her way out of the barracks, Carolina decides she is no longer living for Dr. Leonard Church. 

At least, she isn’t tonight. 

* * *

"How’s it feel being the most beautiful woman at the bar?”

Errera is a decent club. At least, Carolina assumes it must be because she has heard that said by other soldiers dozens of times over. 

This is her first time doing anything like this, and she still can’t tell if she’s doing it right.

The soldier talking to her is in his military cargoes and not looking particularly fancy in them either way. But he’s got a confidence and oozing charm that makes her smile despite herself.

Still, she looks back and forth across the bar before looking coolly back to him. “Not too much competition,” she says idly.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he tries again, scooting onto the seat beside her more. She keeps staring at how white his teeth are. “I was going to show some of my buddies this trick, but they’re a bit drunk to appreciate it,” he says pulling out a lighter.

Carolina rolls her eyes. “You were doing so good,” she sighs.

His face falters for a second. “Huh?”

“The conversation was cheesy but fun. Now it’s moving on to parlor tricks?” she asks skeptically, raising her brow at him. 

“I like cheesy, and parlor tricks take a lot of training sometimes,” he defends, but that confident smile is erased. 

“And this one?”

“A few minutes and a bourbon,” he admits, shoulders drooping some. “You think you’ve just got me all figured out, don’t you?” 

“Maybe,” she says back.

He laughs, holding up his hands and backing off the stool. “Alright, alright. I see how it is. Pardon me for intruding. By the way, I paid for that drink already,” he says with a nod to her hand. 

Carolina watches as he walks back toward the table of his buddies, the majority of them already laughing their heads off. 

“And after all night staring at her!” one of them bellows. “Nice game, Yorker.”

“Hey, man, you’ve gotta respect when you get a no,” York laughs back, sliding into his old seat and pulling out his lighter again. “Okay, who wants to see this stupid _parlor trick_ after all?”

There’s a disinterested muttering that Carolina finds just won’t do.

She gets up from her stool, drink set on the counter, and comes up right behind her admirer as he tosses up the lighter. She grabs it right from his hands.

He whirls around, eyebrows set high as he looks at her. Carolina smirks back.

“I think I owe you a drink, right?” she asks, holding the lighter behind her back.

After blinking a few times, he snorts and tosses his head to the side. “And a lighter, it looks like.”

She smiles at him, all teeth. “One thing at a time.”

* * *

Carolina has plans, has _motion_ in her life, and for once it seems perfectly unassigned. 

It feels like choice, and she chooses to agree to a date, a time, a place. And she _chooses_ to think about it with every spare moment being sergeant to her squad gives her. 

And it’s why, seeing the signature at the bottom of her formal reassignment, she genuinely considers finding a way to decline the offer. 

After all, there are not that many _Dr. Leonard Church_ es in the UNSC.

But she can’t.

She doesn’t know if it’s programmed within her circuits and wires, she doesn’t know if it’s ground into her zeroes and ones after years and years of trying and failing, but there is no way that she can bring herself to refuse him.

_He needs her.  
_

And that’s almost enough to pretend that she also needs him. 

She is considering calling her date, on letting him know that it’s through, that she can’t hang on, that there’s something that’s changed.

But he’s come to her first, standing in full uniform outside her barracks.

Carolina stares at him suspiciously. 

“This isn’t your base,” she says, turning her head slightly. 

“No, especially not anymore,” he says, rubbing at his neck. He has a crunched up piece of paper in his other hand, hanging loosely by his side. “I don’t really know how to explain... hell, I don’t really even know enough _myself_. But I know it’s going to sound like a _real_ asshole move after I came on so strong before... but there’s this special assignment, and I’ve--”

Carolina opens the door further, drawing his gaze down to her own letter. 

He looks at it, confused, then brings his gaze once more to her. 

She smirks and salutes. “It’ll be a privilege serving with you.”

A large grin crosses his face and he salutes back. “Same to you, Boss.”

* * *

It has been so simple to make decisions for herself, to make a life for herself, when he is ignoring her. When she can see all her efforts and all her work unappreciated. 

But as she finishes another level of training, as another state-named operative is down for the count and she raises in the ranks, she finds herself looking to the deck and seeing his face.

There’s not approval in his face, and more often than not he has comments for her improvement.

Still, there is satisfaction there. There is _acknowledgement_ , and it’s not long before everything in her is striving to achieve that feeling again. 

It’s not something York can appreciate.

“Why is he so hard on you?” he demands, glaring over his shoulder after another successful training round.

Immediately feeling her hackles raise, Carolina rounds on him. “Did you expect him to expect _less_ from the best of the best?”

“I expect him to give the person who _is_ the best the respect she deserves,” York says, not backing down. “Carolina, why do you take up for him?”

“Because it’s my job,” she says angrily. “Don’t you understand that?”

York frowns. “No, I don’t. But I can respect that it means something to you, alright? So, let’s _not_ bite my head off and instead, how about you tell me what I can do to help you. With... whatever this is.”

She looks over him carefully. “Why do you care so much about me?” she asks him seriously. 

He laughs, pulling at his ear nervously. “Can’t you tell?” 

“You don’t know anything about me,” she warns him. “I might not be what you expect me to be.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

Carolina shuts her eyes and shakes her head before heading out of the training room, leaving a baffled York.

She _can_ wait for him to find out. She can wait for him to _never_ find out. 

* * *

From the moment she sees Tex, Carolina gets the sense there’s something more to her. And beyond that, Carolina has the good sense to know that she’s not going to like her. 

While there’s truth to North and Wash’s words -- that it is probably Tex’s actions that save York rather than cause the injury -- there is a part of Carolina that can’t be quite the forgiving.

There’s an even larger part of her that can’t ignore the sparking from Tex’s arms as the medical staff try to lead her away.

Carolina narrows her eyes. 

“Interesting,” she hisses under her breath. 

She’s not sure why the thought has never crossed her before, particularly as she looks back and sees the Director heading for them, temper flaring. 

It seems so obvious as she watches him yell at Washington and the rest of them all at once. 

He made her. How likely is it that he’s created others. 

Carolina’s eyes shift back to Tex as she’s led out of the training room. 

Even beyond her concerns for York, beyond her nervousness about the level of skill that Texas was performing at, Carolina grows a sickening hatred for what she suspects Texas is.

Someone like her. 

* * *

She loses everything with the fall. 

But because of who she is -- _what_ she is -- she doesn’t lose her life. 

Broken, battered, sparking, she crawls away from the imprint of snow. 

Carolina looks up the cliff and knows that they’re up there, and that he, _the Director_ to her and nothing more, will know she survives. But she can’t have it this way anymore. 

She’s lost everything, but at that moment she can start over once again. 

Carolina can gain freedom from programming, freedom from updates and secrets and competition. 

Instead, she can be a new person with a life of her own design from the bottom up.

She can. But she won’t. 

Crawling away, she is already centering her next course of actions toward rebuilding, and those aimed around finding him, making him and his actions the driving force in her life once again. 

Maybe then, just maybe, she’ll be free. 


End file.
